. . .
"Show me," I said to our companion, "what
I have much coveted, your breast's mauve star!"
And she consented. Oh, neither these verses
Nor my prudence, love, can heal your wounded stare.
from A Dream of Jealousy, by Seamus Heaney
watercolor by matta
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. . .
"Show me," I said to our companion, "what
I have much coveted, your breast's mauve star!"
And she consented. Oh, neither these verses
Nor my prudence, love, can heal your wounded stare.
from A Dream of Jealousy, by Seamus Heaney
watercolor by matta